


Requests Hour

by mad_martha



Series: Auror [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:54:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_martha/pseuds/mad_martha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer holiday isn't all bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requests Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically, this is the first story in my Auror series and in fact was originally intended as a standalone story unconnected to [Circles Of Power](http://archiveofourown.org/works/238596). _This_ story was written first and still works in isolation; however, the two worked so well together that I ended up putting them together. Nevertheless, I strongly recommend that you read "Circles Of Power" before you read any of the other stories in the Auror series.

There was a quality to the silence in the hours just before dawn; a quality Harry Potter was all too familiar with these days. Since his return to Privet Drive after an action-packed fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he had spent all too many nights lying awake while the rest of the world slept on, oblivious.

He had suffered from nightmares before, but now they were worse - much, much worse.

Nightmares about being whisked away by a cup that shouldn't have been a portkey.

Nightmares about seeing Cedric Diggory lying dead in the grass.

Nightmares about looking into the ghostly faces of his mother and father.

Nightmares about the return of Voldemort.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut on the last image for a moment, and when he opened them again he got up off his bed and walked as quietly as he could to the window. The skies outside, just beginning to pink from the approaching dawn, were clear and empty.

He glanced back towards the wall above his bed where a makeshift calendar was pinned. Today would be the 31st July.

His fifteenth birthday.

When he turned back to the window, there was a white snowy owl looking back at him. For the first time, a smile broke across Harry's face and he hurried to open the window and let Hedwig inside. She hooted softly as she hopped over the ledge and dropped a square parcel into his hands.

"Thanks, Hedwig," he whispered and he turned it over, examining the label. His smile became bigger as he recognised the handwriting of his godfather, Sirius Black.

Before he could start to open it, however, there was another arrival on the window-ledge; a large brown owl he recognised as a Post Owl from Hogwarts. It was carrying a big package wrapped in brown paper and string, and the messy writing on the front told him that this was from Hagrid. Interestingly, it also bore a transfer mark from the Owl Post Office in … _Norway?_ Harry stared.

What was Hagrid doing in Norway?

He pulled the paper off it and found packets of sweets and chocolates, all obviously from a wizard sweet-shop but with unfamiliar labels in a different language. Norwegian, perhaps. The card wished him a happy birthday and, making Harry grin, there was a scrawled note:

 _Keep yer chin up, mate!_

Setting the package of sweets aside, Harry carefully undid the parcel from his godfather. This one was very different. It had been properly wrapped, although in cheap paper, and had a neatly written card from Sirius _and_ from Remus Lupin. That was a surprise but it might explain the gift-wrap, which Sirius himself might not normally have access to as a wanted criminal. Sirius had obviously spent at least the first part of the summer with his old school-friend.

A little excited, Harry pulled the wrapping paper off and found himself confronted with a book. It had a brown leather cover and was embossed with a jaunty title: _What Every Teenaged Wizard Needs To Know._ Puzzled, Harry looked at the accompanying note from Sirius:

 _Remus reminds me that godfathers sometimes have other duties besides buying their godsons new broomsticks, especially when their godsons are growing up. I don't suppose your uncle cares one way or the other and your dad isn't here to give you "the talk", so until I see you in person, consider this my contribution to your education._

Harry felt his cheeks growing warm. Somehow, he just _knew_ this wasn't a book full of nifty new spells and charms. It had a sort of look about it that was rather … clandestine.

Feeling embarrassed before he ever started, Harry cautiously opened the cover.

It got worse.

Inside were stuffed two wizard-style magazines - one with the words _Hot Sorceress!_ across the top and the other emblazoned with the title _Playwitch_. Scantily-clad witches beamed up at him from the covers, wriggling, blowing kisses and waving. One of them was holding a broomstick in a _very_ disturbing way.

Harry shut the cover of the book quickly, and stuffed it under his blankets. If his Aunt Petunia found this, he would be in the biggest trouble _ever_ -

Fortunately two more owls arrived at the window, distracting him. One carried a package from Hermione containing a thick book with the title _How To Live A Charmed Life - Personal Defences Against The Dark Arts_ and a note saying _I know this isn't on the syllabus until next year, Harry, but I think we all need to know as much as we can Under The Circumstances_. This was clearly a reference to Voldemort's return, and Harry appreciated his friend's obvious care and concern.

The second owl was a tiny ball of fluff called Pigwidgeon, who bore an interesting box addressed in the hand of Harry's other best friend, Ron Weasley. This was a sturdy, gift-wrapped parcel with a birthday card inside and an accompanying note that said: _This is from all of us, mate. Read the instructions, and MAKE SURE YOU SWITCH IT ON AT SEVEN O'CLOCK!_

Harry looked at his watch quickly. He had fifteen minutes to find out what was inside the box, read the instructions and switch the object on. He hoped it wasn't complicated.

When he unwrapped the parcel, inside the box was a device like a little old-fashioned radio. Beside it was something even stranger that looked like a miniature ear-trumpet.

Utterly bemused, Harry opened the folded parchment sheet of instructions and at once began to grin.

It was a wizard wireless set, complete with a little attachment that meant he could listen to it in private without everyone overhearing - a little like having a Walkman and headphones. Thrilled, he turned it over and over, examining the dials and holding the attachment up to his ear experimentally. This meant that he could listen to the Wizard Wireless Network, or WWN - he could keep up to date on wizard news and music and even follow Quidditch matches live!

Realising that it was getting close to seven o'clock, Harry switched the wireless set on carefully and held the attachment to his ear, listening in delight as a zany-sounding DJ talked over the top of music he thought he recognised as being by the Weird Sisters.

 _"…And now for our Requests Hour, folks, and first up is one for the Boy Who Lived himself! How about that? Harry Potter is fifteen today - Happy Birthday from everyone at WWN, Harry! - and your friends the Weasley family have requested this track just for you …"_

What was special about the song Harry couldn't imagine - no doubt Ron would explain when he saw him - but that didn't matter. It was the fact that Ron and his family had given him such a fantastic gift, that they had bothered to go to all this effort just for him.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Was Ignored By His Relatives, was having a birthday and the wizarding world was celebrating it with him.

At the bottom of the box, half hidden in the tissue paper packing, was a final note from Ron.

 _Mum talked to Dumbledore and he says you can come to us for the last week of the holiday. I'll send Pig with the arrangements, okay? Oh, and there's a Cannons match tomorrow afternoon, so don't forget to listen in!_

Harry grinned happily and leaned back on his pillow, holding the listening attachment to his ear as the DJ moved on to another request and another song. Rummaging with his free hand, he pulled out one of Hagrid's chocolates and, after a moment's hesitation, he found Sirius's book again. His embarrassment had subsided and now he was curious to see what it was about.

Although he couldn't wait to see Ron's face when he showed him the magazines ….


End file.
